Febuwhump Day 9 - alt. Lightning Strike
I legit couldn't think of anything to do for bees that wasn't too similar to something I've already written, so here's this instead.
TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 1,063
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“What kind of ugly ass scars are those?”
Denki hides his body for a reason.
“It looks like you were struck by lightning, is it from your quirk, Kaminari?”
They’re ugly, he knows they are.
“Kaminari, can you move? Your skin is freaking me out.”
People with mutant quirks are treated well at UA, especially the powerful ones like Shouji and Tokoyami. Physical differences mean little to nothing when you can kick anyone’s ass who gives you crap.
But Denki’s scars are different. They’re completely his fault.
Every time he goes stupid with overexertion, his quirk fires off at random intervals. Since he’s not conscious to prepare for it, it creates these lines in his skin. Lichtenberg figures, they’re called.
They’re raised, dusty pink lines on his skin, wrinkled and perpetually tingling. They stretch out all over him, centered on his inner forearms and chest, where his quirk focuses on output. They follow a senseless pattern, weaving across his skin. He used to have a lot of freckles on his body, but many of them have been overtaken.
When new electricity pulses through them, they get hot and irritated for days after. Denki has to sleep sitting up, leaning over his giant Pikachu plush. It’s tear-stained, looking just about as miserable as he feels on those nights.
He changes in the showers in the locker room, hiding away from his closest friends. People he trusts with his life.
Bakugo always looks at him weirdly when he refuses to take off his long sleeves. The guy has some pretty gnarly scars himself; All won in hard-fought battles. Each one tells a story of badassery that Denki could never dream of reaching.
Just yesterday, during training, he’d overworked himself again. The figure going up his back took the beating and crawled up just past his costume collar. Good thing Todoroki has single-handedly made turtlenecks come back in fashion.
He’s angry at his weakness and frustrated at his lack of control.
Shoving his costume in its case, he tugs his long-sleeved sweater down self-consciously.
A gruff voice calls his name, and he curses when the sudden movement his neck makes sends an arrow of pain down his back.
“Hey man,” He smiles, “what’s up?”
Bakugo’s eye twitches, and before he can so much as breathe, Denki is dragged to the empty offices in the gym.
“Uhh,” He falters, tripping at the last step before he’s gently (for Bakugo) shoved into a wall.
“Roll up your sleeves.” His classmate sneers, crossing his arms and glancing to the door as if expecting someone to interrupt and ruin whatever intervention is happening.
Denki frowns, tucking his hands behind his back and trapping them against the wall. “Kind of a weird request, dude. Do you mind explaining before I strip for you?”
Bakugo flushes, eye-twitching, “You’re stalling, fuckface. I’m not- fuck,” He sighs, glancing to the door again, “I’m not letting you walk out of here if you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“Oh,” Denki blinks slowly. He’s not wrong, but he’s only doing what they all do during training, “It’s just collateral. I’m fine, Bakugo.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
“What the fuck about cutting yourself is collateral, you fucking moron!”
“Cutting my-” Denki mumbles, looking down at his arms. Is that what Bakugo thought?
Huh.
He looks up at Bakugo suspiciously, “Are you the one who stole my exacto knife and my scissors? Bakugo, I’m not doing that. It’s just scarring from my quirk, like Kirishima’s eye.” He sits on that for a second, “Well, I guess Midoriya’s arms would be a better analogy.”
He brings his arms forward and tugs his sleeves up, exposing his wrists for Bakugo to inspect. “See? From the electricity.”
Bakugo squints, aggressively taking one of his wrists as he’s been given a time limit.
“How come you cover them then?” He grunts, letting go when satisfied.
Denki rolls his eyes, “They’re ugly, Bakugo. I’m not blind.”
“Well, as long as you fuckin’ know. Loser.” Imaginary Bakugo jeers, shoving Denki into the wall again and exiting swiftly… Probably giving him a middle finger.
In reality, he just kind of… stands there.
After a few moments of silence Denki is far too weirded out to stay quiet. “Uh… dude?”
Bakugo blinks, looking back down at Denki’s arms and grabbing at one to pull up to his face again. He investigates them, eyes darting over the skin, where the thickest of the figure is. “It’s not ugly.”
Um, what?
“Um, what?”
Bakugo tsks at him, waving his own arm in his face, “I said they’re not ugly. Where’d you even get that idea?”
Denki sweetie, Haru’s mom said your arms scared him, so you have to keep the jacket on for the whole play date, okay?
What are you, fifty? What’s with the gross wrinkles?!
Do you, like, wear a full surfer suit when you swim?! If I were you I wouldn’t let anyone see me without a shirt!
No, you sit by him! If he shocks me I’ll look like that!
Denki sighs, leaning back against the wall, “Everyone says that, dude. Since my quirk manifested and I went stupid for the first time.”
Bakugo’s nose scrunches like he smells something bad, “They’re fuckin’ stupid. You’re just like anyone else with scars. Everyone in our class has some, it’s part of the damn job.”
“Yeah, but mine are-”
“Normal, dipshit.” Bakugo interrupts, waving his hand at Denki, “If anyone in our class says shit, I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em. Only thing ugly about you is your stupid face. Always smiling. It’s gross.”
Denki can’t help but blush in response. He thinks that’s the closest Bakugo’s ever come to complimenting him! Even if it was just followed by an insult.
“Aw, thanks Kacchan,” He grins when the tips of Bakugo’s ears pinken.
“You’re fucking stupid. Are you gonna quit moping now?”
Denki nods, grinning eagerly, “You bet, and I’ll show some skin just for you!”
Bakugo flushes bright red, “Wh- that’s not! Fuck you!!”
Denki giggles, skirting around his fuming classmate before he blows up the office they’ve borrowed. “See you, Kacchan.”
He pauses by the door, catching his hand on the frame, “And thanks, by the way, I appreciate it.”
Bakugo shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Whatever dunce face, I better see you in the locker room tomorrow.”
“You know it!”
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